Spark
by Capaldelight
Summary: Clara and Twelve are both dealing with the aftermath of his regeneration. There is a spark between them that simply won't go out. Clara finds out the Doctor still fancies her and the spark flares to life.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Spark 1 of 3

**Rating:** M

**Pairing:** 12/Clara

Synopsis: Clara and Twelve are both dealing with the aftermath of his regeneration. There is a spark between them that simply won't go out. Clara finds out the Doctor still fancies her and the spark flares to life.

"_Love is like a friendship caught on fire. In the beginning a flame, very pretty, often hot and fierce, but still only light and flickering. As love grows older, our hearts mature and our love becomes as coals, deep-burning and unquenchable."_Bruce Lee

"Where's my bedroom!?"

Clara stalked into the control room and placed her hands on her hips as she approached the console. The TARDIS was a sentient machine and she'd never really gotten along with it, or _her _as the Doctor preferred to refer to the old cow.

From the way the lights flickered, it seemed be laughing at her.

"You deleted my bedroom. Again."

When it came time to go to bed tonight, she'd been unable to locate her room. She'd spent the better part of an hour wandering up and down corridors, growing more and more lost. Thankfully, no leopards had chased her down this time, but she still felt like that girl from The_ Labyrinth,_ only without the benefit of a handsome goblin king.

"Well?" she said impatiently. "Where is it?"

She waited for a response, but the console hummed and buzzed, as per usual but Clara thought the sound held a mocking tone.

During one of their many disagreements, the TARDIS had appeared to her, choosing to take her own form. That might be easier to deal with than a gloating mechanical noise.

_Hmm._ She'd heard the Doctor issue the command once. What had it been? "Hologram interface?" she said loudly.

Nothing.

_What was it? Something interface. _"Come on, then. Show yourself! Let's get this sorted. I want to get to bed! Do your interface thing!"

She'd been travelling with the Doctor since the mummy on the Orient Express and today had been particularly trying. She'd been stalked by killer graffiti and then the Doctor had the nerve to tell her "goodness" had nothing to do with her actions, even though she'd saved the day. As far as she could tell, he was upset that she'd followed his example. He hadn't spoken to her since. When they got back in the TARDIS, he'd just entered some coordinates and stalked off to the library without a backwards glance, like he couldn't stand the sight of her.

Not that His Royal Crabbiness had ever been particularly kind, but Clara had hoped he'd _at least_ be proud of her. All she'd wanted was a little praise. Is that asking too much? Apparently, it was. While she'd seen the Doctor regenerate with her own eyes, she sometimes felt like this new version of her friend wasn't the same person at all. He'd grown more aloof, harsher around the edges, and he didn't seem to care for her much anymore.

Unbidden, the image of _her_ Doctor came to mind, young, bow-tied, and bespectacled. He used to hold her hand and call her "my Clara". She missed his warmth, the tactile nature of their relationship, and the way he'd made her laugh. Sometimes, she fantasized about him. What if she'd given in to the impulse to kiss him just once?

_Too late now. Much too late. _

Clara had squandered any hope of a romantic relationship with the Doctor, in favor of protecting her heart. She knew as soon as she met him, that their relationship had an expiration date on it. But this particular version of her Doctor had apparently decided his predecessor had been mad to fancy her in the first place. Instead of giving her butterflies, his Royal Crabbiness had a way of making her cross and agitated.

_Enough of these maudlin thoughts…._

She needed to get some sleep. Maybe this whole situation would look better if she had some rest. "Come on. Show yourself!"

"Voice interface enabled."

Clara turned to see a version herself, though the image rippled like an invisible wave ran through it.

"Where's my bedroom?" Clara asked tiredly.

The image stared at her blankly. "Which bedroom?"

"Clara Oswald's bedroom."

"Clara Oswald does not have a bedroom onboard."

"Yeah, I know because _you deleted it_," she said through gritted teeth.

The hologram neither conformed or nor denied this. Clara took a deep breath and then tried another tactic. "Fine. I want you to create a bedroom for me."

"Only the Doctor may issue that particular command."

Clara sighed in defeat. "Of course. I guess I'll sleep out here then." She eyed the Doctor's chair in the gallery. Not exactly the most comfortable makeshift bed in the universe but it would do. She trudged up the stairs and hologram Clara followed her.

She turned around and scowled at her own image. "Shoo!" she said, waving it away.

Stubbornly, it dogged her steps.

On the back of the chair, he'd draped one of his long black coats and she slumped down in the seat, placing her legs over one side and curling down into it. Then pulled the coat over her like a blanket and made a face at her own reflection. "You can go now."

The voice interface stared vacantly ahead, as though it didn't understand her command.

"Oh, perfect." Clara felt like shouting at it, but that would be childish. She sucked in a deep, calming breath. "Can you dim the lights in here?"

"Yes, I can."

She bit the inside of her cheek, trying desperately to hold on to the last vestige of her patience. Not an easy task at the moment. "Dim the lights. And in case you missed it? That's a command."

"By what percentage?"

She swore the old cow was being deliberately obtuse. "I don't know! Make it look a little bit less like a rave in here or something." With all the whooshing parts and blinking lights, it could be a bit distracting.

"I do not understand that order," the hologram stated.

Clara felt like grabbing some books from the shelf and chucking them at the damned thing's head. Not that it would do any good, they'd just pass right through her own image and then she'd have to pick them up and put them away. "Dim the lights by fifty percent."

Miraculously, the lights lowered in the room. "Illumination decreased by fifty percent," the image informed her.

Finally! "Now go away. I don't need you anymore."

"Records indicate this low of light level usually precedes the start of another program. Would you like me to activate Simulation One?"

Clara frowned. "Simulation One? What's that?"

"A scenario created by the Doctor," the TARDIS answered.

"Which Doctor?" Clara asked curiously.

"There is only one Doctor."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. You got me on a technicality there. Show me the face of the Doctor who created the scenario." Bowtie? Or Crabby?

Her image transformed into none other than His Royal Crabbiness. _Hmmm. _She bit her lower lip. If it was possible, he was even more enigmatic than his youthful counterpart. Clara couldn't resist the opportunity to figure out something else about him.

"Please begin Simulation One," she instructed the TARDIS and instantly the Doctor disappeared to be replaced with her double once more, only dressed differently…in an outfit she would never,_ ever_ wear.

The black skirt was long, nearly reaching the floor with a slit up the side revealing a red lining and a good deal of hip. The outfit was topped off by a pressed white shirt and well-tailored jacket, which also offered a flash of crimson lining. The Doctor had dressed her to match his new look? Interesting. There was something about it that said naughty librarian. Her hair had been pulled up away from her face, with little ringlets around her temples and she wore a pair of black glasses.

Her eyes widened in shock.

The hologram smiled seductively at Clara. "Hello, Doctor! I've missed you. Where are we going today?" The image sauntered to the rail and leaned up against it, grinning at the imaginary Doctor, sneaking glances at him from beneath her lashes. Clara realized it behaved towards him the way she used to act with the bow-tied Doctor.

The program paused, evidently waiting for a response from her.

"Um, we're going to Sherwood Forest," Clara said quickly, speaking as though she were the Doctor.

The holographic Clara rolled her eyes. "I don't want to visit that long-haired ninny. I'd rather spend my time with you."

Clara tried another response."Actually, I think it's time to get you home to Danny."

The duplicate sighed. "P.E.? Why would I want a _boring _human soldier when I could see the stars with a mysterious Time Lord?"

_Oh my God!_ Clara clapped a hand over her own mouth to keep from screeching. Did this mean the Doctor _still _fancied her? That had to be it, _had to be_! Nothing else explained the _come hither_ demeanor and the wardrobe. She never, _not in a million years_, would have guessed it. They seemed to rub each other the wrong way right from the very start. She didn't know quite what to make of it, really. She racked her brain but could come to no other conclusion. The Doctor still had a crush on her. It really didn't make sense. If he fancied her, why give her the "not your boyfriend" talk? Why didn't he like her to touch him now?

In short, what the bloody hell was going on?

And who knew he had a serious jealous streak as well, judging from the comments about Danny and Robin Hood? Actually, that explained a lot about his reaction to Danny at Coal Hill. He'd been pleased when she assumed she'd been dating someone like his younger self and then had gotten territorial and upset when he discovered it was Danny.

Clara bit her lip, staring at the wavy replica of herself for a moment. She paused, trying to find a really good question to ask it. Something..telling. "Do you think I'm handsome?"

"Oh, yes, Doctor," the holographic Clara said enthusiastically. "You look much better in stark black without those silly bowties and tweed. I love your silver hair, those elegant hands, the deep penetrating eyes…"

Clara gulped. "Woah. We've already gotten to penetration?!" She bit her lower lip. "End simulation! Now." The TARDIS transformed her duplicate's clothing into an ordinary skirt and jumper then. Gone was the seductive smile, replaced with a bland expression.

Clara wasn't sure she wanted to know how far this scenario thing went. Although, she supposed it was no different than someone fantasizing, the Doctor just had the means to make an image and she knew for damn sure he'd never be okay with her seeing it.

So why had the TARDIS showed her? The answer came to her in a flash...to get her kicked off the ship permanently. _Tricky old cow..._

"Can you delete the fact that I accessed this program?"

"No," the hologram informed her, somewhat smugly.

"I hate you so much," she hissed at her own reflection. The TARDIS had given her just enough rope to hang herself.

"You can go away now." Blessedly, the image vanished, leaving Clara seated in the Doctor's chair with more questions than answers.

**12**

"Why are you wearing my coat?"

Clara's eyes snapped open to see the Doctor standing over her, a frown pulling the corners of his mouth down.

"I'm not wearing it. I'm lying beneath it," she said irritably.

It had made a good cover, with the silky red lining, and the outer layer was made of warm wool. It was long enough to conceal a good deal of her body. Plus, it smelled like the Doctor, a clean ocean-like scent she could never quite place. It was pleasant though and she'd curled up under it and gone right to sleep, despite the harrowing day she'd had.

She sat up and handed him the coat, which he held by the collar as though it were contaminated. He gingerly placed it over the nearby railing and turned to her once more.

Clara shook her head, having a hard time squaring _his touch me not _behavior with her and then the sexy hologram of herself she'd glimpsed last night. What if she'd just dreamt the whole bizarre thing? It seemed much more likely.

The Doctor watched her, eyes narrowed. Sometimes, he made her feel like an exhibit in some sort of human zoo and he was observing her "fascinating behavior" for some sort of scientific journal. Honestly, it was like traveling the galaxy with Spock or something. His former self hadn't seemed quite so alien and he could at least handle social interaction without being rude and cross. Well, most of the time.

"Why are you in my chair?"

She rubbed at her eyes and tried her best to act normal. "Stupid TARDIS deep-sixed my room again. I needed some place to sleep."

He clucked his tongue and glanced at the ceiling. "We've had a talk about that, old girl. Put the room back right now."

The console hummed, a distinctly flirty sound, in response.

"Thank you," she said standing up and stretching. She had a kink in her neck and her joints felt stiff from being curled up in the confines of the chair. He continued to watch her curiously.

"You should have found me last night. I would have told her to put it back."

Clara shrugged. "I tried, but I couldn't locate your room."

She'd gone round and round the hallways. She'd glimpsed the Doctor's room only once, but she couldn't seem to find it last night, no matter how long she searched. Not that it would have been much help to find him. She couldn't imagine knocking on his bedroom door. It felt way too personal.

Yet, strangely enough, the Doctor had no qualms about invading _her_ privacy, parking the TARDIS at her school, not to mention the deep cover incident, and of course making himself comfortable in her flat. Specifically, her bedroom. He'd actually gotten out of his spaceship and proceeded to poke around her makeup table while she'd been on a date. She imagined he would be outraged if she'd pulled something similar.

"For you." He handed her a cup of coffee. He preferred a dark roast, loaded down with sugar. He'd added both cream and sugar to her cup. It made her smile that he still knew how she took her coffee.

She took a sip gratefully, needing the jolt of caffeine this morning. "Where are we going?"  
>"I'm taking you home," he said softly. "I think you should be in the real world for a bit." He took off down the stairs to the console and she followed him slowly, dragging her feet.<p>

Truthfully, she had no desire to leave. It didn't quite seem fair. But? His ship, his rules. That's the way it had always worked. But she felt an increasing pull to stay onboard. Traveling with him had become an impulse she couldn't ignore. Sometimes, she thought about putting her life on hold indefinitely and traveling with him full time.

But, frankly, Clara was confused by his demeanor. She'd almost left him because she couldn't accept these darker, harder edges he had now, the callousness he displayed all the time. When she'd finally gotten past some of her fears and accepted it, he acted like she'd suddenly become morally bankrupt or something.

They stood at the console together, and an awkward silence stretched between them.

"You are less chatty than usual," he remarked after a very long pause.

"You said I talk too much." Actually, his exact words were _do you ever shut your perpetually open gob?_

He frowned. "I don't recall saying that."

She made a face. Typical. He'd say something nasty and then not remember the comment later. _Awfully convenient_. "Trust me. You did."

Clara finished her coffee and noticed he had faint white smudge marks near his trouser pocket. Perhaps smears from the chalk he always seemed to be using?

It_ bothered_ her.

She had just a touch of OCD, probably related to her control issues. She liked schedules and structure, and everything to be put in its correct place. There was a reason why she had a whiteboard in her own classroom. White marks on black trousers just wouldn't do. Without thinking, she reached down to dust off the fabric, brushing the Doctor's hip in the process.

They both froze.

Her hand hovered perilously near his crotch. "I'm sorry!" she said quickly and oh, was she ever. Her OCD tendencies had taken over and she didn't even think about how close her hand was to his...

Clara gulped.

With trepidation, she met his gaze, waiting for a tirade. Instead, heat flamed in his eyes, an intense_, scorching heat_, the kind that could burn whole planets to a cinder.

"I, uh, saw you had chalk marks," Clara babbled, disconcerted by the hunger in his his younger body, he used to look at her with longing, but it was charming and somewhat innocent, like a first crush. Nothing in this man's gaze could be construed as innocent. It hinted at days spent wrapped in silk sheets. "I just wanted to tidy you up. Sorry, for the touching. I know you don't like it."

He said nothing, just stared down at her, without blinking. But his cheekbones became more pronounced when his jaw clenched, and his nostrils flared.

Clara suddenly became aware that she was rubbing his thigh oh so gently and he seemed to be leaning into her touch. _Oh dear God._

Neither one of them moved. Or breathed. Time stood still. For just a moment, she thought he might bend down and kiss her. Clara couldn't quite decide if she wanted him to or not.

Finally, he reared back from her with a muttered curse. He circled the console, putting a good eight feet between them. Then quickly buttoned his jacket and leaned against the panel, looking pained. Pained? Oh, because he had _liked_ her touch. Her eyes widened.

Just then, the engines stopped and they were abruptly in her apartment once more. He snapped his fingers and the doors opened. "You're home," he announced. "Goodbye."

Clara thought about grabbing her gear from her newly restored bedroom, but decided against it. She needed to get the hell out of here before she did something stupid, well, stupider. She licked her suddenly dry lips and made for the exit. She paused at the door, unable to stop herself from asking a question. "When will I see you again?"

"Soon, I expect," he said gruffly.

Clara practically ran out the TARDIS doors.

**12**

His coat smelled like Clara.

He pressed it to his nose and inhaled. Sunshine and the rose perfume she wore, and beneath it all the musky scent of her soft skin. _Such soft, silky skin…_it had been ages since he'd last touched it. The Doctor forced himself to put the coat down, though he hadn't been able to bring himself to send it through a laundry sequence in the utility room where cleaning chemicals would obliterate her scent.

She'd slept beneath it, curled up in his chair and he wished the image didn't charm him so much. He'd stood there for hours watching her sleep, cuddled up in his space. He liked having her in his home, touching the little things she left behind.

But this morning had been a disaster. She'd stroked his thigh and his body had roared to life, starved for her affection, eager for more. He'd managed to gather his wits and get the hell away from her before he'd done something drastic, something foolish.

_Clara, Clara, Clara….what to do about this situation?_

He couldn't quite decide. For now, he would give her a bit of space. He'd begun to think he was a bad influence on her. She'd started to take on his more unsavory characteristics. The casual callousness, and she'd become a world class liar under his dubious tutelage. And she'd actually had the nerve to lie to him. Him! And he'd bought it.

To make matters much worse, after she'd left this morning, he'd accessed the TARDIS data banks and found she'd seen one of his scenarios. _That_ brought a fresh rush of shame and embarrassment. Thankfully, the data banks confirmed she hadn't seen much of it and she hadn't mentioned it, but he wondered if her touch this morning had been a little experiment on her part. Had she been disgusted? Amused? Aroused? No, of course not. How could she be?

He'd painstakingly deleted them all after she'd left, even the more…risqué ones he'd turned to on the occasional long, lonely night. He hadn't meant to create them in the first place. Usually, his own imaginings would suffice when it came to easing his body's urges, but he'd needed more when it came to Clara because he'd lost so much.

Clara used to hold his hand and flirt with him shamelessly, her quick wit and _double entendres_ could rival Jack Harkness, even on his best day. And oh, the way she looked at him…_used to look,_ anyway. Everything had changed when he'd regenerated. He could see it in her eyes, the disappointment. She'd made comments about changing him back, and the grey hair. Obviously, she no longer found him sexually attractive. He'd forced himself to tell her he wasn't her boyfriend and put a physical barrier between them. He wasn't sure he could control his impulses if they continued to hold hands and hug all the time. Oh, they still got on well enough, but he'd become her sexless friend, her alien traveling companion.

And who could blame her?

He'd aged nearly thirty years in the blink of an eye. She was a bright young woman with her whole life ahead of her. She deserved a young man her own age. He loathed admitting it, but he looked more like her father than a potential lover.

No matter how much he craved her.

The Doctor had always had a taste for feisty females who challenged him. Women like River and Rose made his blood boil in more ways than one. And, hell, if he hadn't been nursing a heartache, he might have fallen for Donna Noble as well. He was dominant in every other aspect of his life… besides the bedroom. It took one hell of a woman to hold her own against him, let alone get the last word in, but Clara had managed it on several occasions.

Since he no longer had the luxury of her touch, he'd made due with a verbal sort of flirtation. Arguing with her had become foreplay. He loved to get a rise out of her, the way her eyes flashed and she rounded on him, furious. Though his desire for her would only be quenched by his own palm and vivid imagination. Still, he couldn't bring himself to stop teasing her. No one had ever accused him of being altruistic.

But ultimately, Clara was better off with soldier boy. He knew that, deep down in his hearts, but he couldn't seem to extinguish that spark, that_ fire_ he felt for her.

In fact, at times it threatened to flame to life and burn both their houses down...


	2. Chapter 2

**Spark 2/3**

**Note: **This takes place afterIn the Forest of the Night**,** but beforeDark Water.

**"**_Yes, love indeed is light from heaven; A spark of that immortal fire with angels shared, by Allah given to lift from earth our low desire."_** ~Lord Byron**

**12**

"You're thinking about _him_, aren't you?"

Clara flinched and turned to face Danny on the couch. She sighed. "Yes, I am." She didn't need to ask_ who_ Danny referred to, she knew. No point in denying it. Besides, he'd been very clear about wanting more truth in their relationship, although, sometimes the truth could be brutal.

They'd just gone out for dinner and things had basically returned to normal for them as a couple, after she'd come clean following the big forest problem. She'd confessed all of the many lies she'd told him and told him about her adventures on the TARDIS. Danny had taken it better than she expected, but she got the impression she'd disappointed him.

Still, he seemed willing to give her another chance, which she these days, the Doctor preoccupied her thoughts. Ever since she'd seen that hologram of herself, she'd been obsessed. Not to mention _The Incident_ in the control room where she'd stroked his thigh, albeit to wipe away a chalk smudge. She hadn't mistaken the lust in his eyes and implications were intriguing. She hadn't thought about the Doctor so much since before he'd regenerated. But Clara knew one thing, he hadn't suddenly become immune to her.

But how did the Doctor really feel about her? It felt like much more than friendship and she really didn't know what to do with that. He seemed determined to push her away and there were times when she thought she couldn't get close enough to him to suit her.

"Sometimes I think when you're with me, you would rather be with him," he said softly and then turned the full force of his sad brown eyes on her.

_Damn._ She felt awful, guilty as hell, but she couldn't dispute what he'd said. She couldn't lie to him, nor did she want to dwell on her muddled feelings for the Doctor.

So, she took the coward's way out and kissed Danny.

She wrapped her arms around him and pushed him back on the couch, so she could snog him into silence. Luckily, he didn't protest. Instead, he rested his hands on her hips and let her lay on top of him. Clara kissed him deeply, trying to lose herself in his touch, anything to shut her mind down for the moment.

Desperation drove her to undo the buttons on his shirt as she kissed a path to his navel. Danny hissed in response. She unbuckled his belt and then unzipped him. He was hard and ready for her, she could feel his erection through the fabric of his pants. It had been so long since they made love. Maybe if she rekindled that desire, she'd forget all about the Doctor.

_That's_ when she heard to telltale groan of the TARDIS landing in her living room…

_You have got to be kidding me._

They both froze on the couch for a moment, and then there was a scramble as they tried to put their clothing to rights, but the Doctor bounded out of the doors, like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Clara!" he greeted with warmth in his silvery blue eyes.

"Uh, hi, Doctor," she said, wrapping her arms around herself. She could feel a hot blush creep from her neck to her cheeks.

The Time Lord's face fell as he noted her guest. "P.E.," he said coolly.

"In case you missed it, we were in the middle of something," Danny said through clenched teeth as he zipped his fly. "Don't you knock?"

"No," the Doctor said, genuinely perplexed. "Why would I?"

Clara shrugged sheepishly. "I've never asked him to."

The Doctor squinted at them, evidently just noticing the state of their clothing. "Have I interrupted something? Were you two copulating?" His eyes widened as if he'd stumbled upon a fascinating alien ritual.

_I'm going to have an aneurism. _Clara pressed a hand to her forehead as a dull ache formed. "Uh," she muttered, fumbling for something, _anything _to say. "Um, er."

"We were in the middle of _making love_!" Danny corrected as he began to button his shirt. "We aren't animals. Animals copulate, humans make love." Clara had only heard him use _that _tone of voice with particularly recalcitrant students.

The Doctor lifted his chin imperiously. "Actually, the proper term _is _copulation. Making love is a rather charming euphuism.. And as fascinating as your hormones are, I need Clara for a thing." He pursed his lips. "You aren't invited."

Clara remained mute. She couldn't think of anything to say that would make this situation better.

"Good. Because I don't want to go!" Danny retorted.

The Doctor continued on, undaunted. "But if you like, I can pop back in the TARDIS." He glanced at the clock on Clara's wall. "If my memory serves, human copulation _only _takes three to seven minutes." He raised a brow at Danny. "Human males have _difficulty_ staving off ejaculation. Will that give you sufficient time to finish up?"

_Oh my God._ The Doctor had made that speech sound efficient and somewhat innocent but for a moment she thought he gave Danny a smug little smile. If she didn't know better, she'd think he was intentionally playacting at being a clueless alien who didn't understand human customs.

Danny's face was thunderous. "We're aren't going to..." Danny started and then closed his mouth. "Not with you in the room!"

"I won't be in the room, I'll be in the _TARDIS_," the Doctor said as though Danny were exceedingly stupid, gesturing the big blue box in case he'd missed it. "I promise. I won't even look at the scanner."

Clara cleared her throat, cheeks aflame. "No one will be having, er, sexual relations."

"Speaking of sexual relations," the Doctor said, taking a professorial tone as he addressed her, "did you know that Time Lords and Ladies work on both mental and physical stamina while at the Academy, Clara? Here's a fact for you. Not including foreplay, the average length of copulation among my kind is twenty to twenty five minutes." He glanced at Danny and raised a brow.

"Wow. Twenty five minutes," she repeated softly, thoughts drifting to a _very _wicked place.

"Yes," the Doctor said, voice dipping to a deeper timbre. "Although I have clocked my personal time and I'm_ far_ above average."

_Oh my…._

Clara's stomach flipped over and she sucked in a breath at _that _piece of info. Then, she suddenly remembered Danny was still in the room and snapped out of it. She glanced from one man to the other. The Doctor grinned at her, in a wolfish way.

Danny stood, hands clenched and fuming.

She cleared her throat. "Well, that's interesting," she said, with forced brightness. "Doctor, you mentioned you needed me for a thing?"

"Yes, I do." He snapped his fingers and the TARDIS door flew open. "Shall we?"

She glanced hesitantly at Danny. "Um, I should probably go."

"You can't be serious!" he said. "We are on a date."

"Well, no," she said quickly. "We _were_ on a date. We had dinner, went to a movie, and we're sort of done." She peeked at the beckoning control room with its whirring parts and blue lights. It looked so inviting.

"You can't be serious?! We were about to—"

"Yes, but the mood is sort of spoiled now, isn't it? And I really want to go."

"You want to travel with him more than you want to make love to me?" Danny said incredulously.

She didn't want to hurt him, but she'd promised there would be no more lies. "I," she started and then clamped her mouth shut. "Well, I hate to put it like that, but yes," she said quickly. "I haven't traveled with the Doctor in a while and I really want to." She drifted inside the TARDIS. "I'll see you tomorrow at work, Danny."

"I wouldn't bet on that," the Doctor said as he headed inside and then slammed the TARDIS door shut behind him, leaving Danny stranded on the other side.

On the scanner, she watched as Danny stood up and grabbed his jacket from the arm of a nearby chair. He stalked off screen.

Yes, sometimes the truth could be brutal.

**12**

The Doctor practically swaggered to the console. He had a possessive streak when it came to her and Clara knew he loathed sharing her attention with anyone. She could tell by the smile on his face, she'd pleased him.

It made her want to slap him, just for being arrogant.

He'd actually heard her say she'd rather travel with him than sleep with Danny. She'd never live this down! Clara had no idea what to make of it, or what that meant about her relationship with Danny. Frankly, she didn't feel like sorting that out at the moment.

"Shut up," she ground out.

"Whatever you say, boss," he said with saccharine sweetness. His eyes still glinted with mischief.

She glowered at him. "Doctor!"

"What?"

"Don't gloat. Where are we headed?"

Suddenly, he was all business, the humor disappearing from his face. "Amore."

"Like the song _That's Amore_?" she asked, raising a brow.

He fiddled with switches and levers as he laid in a course. "A bit, yes. The planet is a very popular destination in the universe. It was a human settlement at first and then later became a vacation spot. Many couples stay there on their honeymoon and then later return to celebrate their anniversary."

"Have you ever stayed there on one of your honeymoons?" she asked curiously. Clara drifted closer to him on purpose, to see if he let her into his space bubble.

The Doctor shook his head and then drifted away from her. "I find it a little…flamboyant for my tastes," he said quickly. "You'll see once we get there. At any rate, there is something hinky going on."

_Hmm._ He was still avoiding bodily contact with her. "Hinky?"

"Several couples have been reported missing. I've booked us a room at the resort where all of them were staying. Well, I hacked into their computers and made us a reservation," he amended. "Apparently, all of the couples were taking the waters on a daily basis. That is where all of the disappearances have occurred."

"Waters?"

"A natural hot springs," he explained. "The waters are said to increase fertility, something about the balancing the PH of human bodies, creating the optimum conditions for conception."

"Neat," she said quickly. _Oh God. Could this be any more awkward?_ Before she'd seen that blasted hologram, she wouldn't have thought twice about going to this place with the Doctor. But now? It seemed fraught with metaphorical minefields.

"Hopefully, we'll get this sorted before we have to stay the night," he said hastily. He wouldn't look at her and she could see the tension in his features. Good, she wasn't the only one unnerved by the trip. On the ship, they had separate bedrooms, well, assuming the TARDIS didn't delete hers. But sharing a bedroom would be far too intimate for her liking.

He cleared his throat and she could almost swear his pale cheeks turned a little pink. "Oh, and because we are trying to blend in, you and I will have to, er, pose as a… couple so we won't arouse any suspicions."

_Did he have to use the word arouse? _"Um, sure." Suddenly, her mouth felt dry.

"I realize this will be… uncomfortable, Clara, but we'll have to play the part," he said solemnly. "If we have any hope of finding those people."

She avoided his eyes. "Yup. Gotcha."

"Oh, and you'll need this." He pulled a black velvet box from the pocket of his jacket and placed it in front of her and then snatched his hand back as though it had burned him. She opened it to find a platinum ring set with a diamond.

She gulped. "Uh, where did you get this?"

He refused to look at her. "I just had it. My, uh, younger self purchased it."

Why would he have bought it? Did he buy it…for her? Oh my God. She felt tears threaten to fall.

The Doctor cleared his throat. "Best not to think on it, Clara. Life is unpredictable, even when you're a Time Lord. Unfortunately, Trenzalore changed a lot of his…I mean, _my_ plans."

She blew out a breath. "Okay. Right." Swallowing the lump in her throat, she tucked the ring in her pocket.

_No problem. I got this._ _Famous last words…_

**12**

When they arrived on Amore, the Doctor set The TARDIS down behind the hotel. They walked out the doors ,only to see red heart confetti streaming through the air.

Clara looked up, but didn't see anything dropping confetti in the sky. No planes, no ships, nothing. Then, she glanced down at their feet. All of the confetti dissipated before it hit the ground, like snowflakes melting on a warmer day. "Where's is it coming from and where does it go?"

"It's from the planet's weather regulation system. It's a special bio material made to vanish," he said with a grimace.

"Well, it's certainly festive." Clara jammed the ring on her finger and pocketed the box once more. Clara refused to admire it on her hand. It wasn't_ her_ ring. After this was over, she'd hand it back to the Doctor and that would be that.

"That is one word for it," the Doctor said disdainfully. He grimaced as he scanned the area around them. Yup, His Royal Crabbiness had come back in full force.

They walked in the hotel through the back entrance and eventually approached the front desk. An older human woman stood behind a heart shaped counter and she looked up when they approached. "Welcome to Amore!" she greeted. Then, the smile froze on her face as she took a good look at them both.

The Doctor grasped Clara's hand in his own. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her ring. "My wife and I have a honeymoon suite booked," he explained. He glanced down at her with an affectionate smile. "Don't we?"

"Er, yes," she mumbled, momentarily blinded by _that _look. His more youthful self-had always given her little smiles. It made her heart hurt.

The woman scrutinized Clara over the rim of her glasses. "Your…wife?" It was clear from her expression she disapproved of the very obvious age difference.

"Uh, we, er." The Doctor stuttered, suddenly his bravado gone. Sometimes, she thought he was uncomfortable by the difference in their ages. When he'd looked younger it hadn't mattered as much, but now? She wondered if he was self-conscious. Maybe he thought people assumed he was some sort of aging Lothario?

Clara scowled at the woman. Seriously? How was it her business? "Yes, I'm his wife." She pressed herself against the Doctor, letting her breasts graze his arm. "We just got married." She raised her hand, suddenly wishing the ring was on her middle finger instead. "We're very…_eager _to start our honeymoon."

The Doctor went utterly still next to her.

The woman produced a fake smile that would make The Joker ashamed. "I'll have a porter show you to your room."

**12**

"The nerve of that woman!" Clara called from the bathroom. Twenty minutes later and she was still seething.

The Doctor had more pressing concerns than ageism at the moment. Namely, the swimsuit he would be forced to wear. Wearing your own clothing into the waters was strictly prohibited and all of the resorts in the area provided swimsuits for customers. Unfortunately, since this planet was obsessed with love and romance, the togs were quite…small.

The Doctor held the miniature piece of red fabric between his thumb and forefinger, staring at disdainfully. He much preferred the swim costumes from early nineteenth century earth. He had several of them and this red nightmare showed would scarcely cover his…er, genitals.

"Doctor? Are you listening to me?!"

"Yes, I am," he answered. "Are you changing in there? Or just having a bit of a tirade?"

"I'm changing!" she said crossly.

The Doctor stood up and ruefully began taking off his own garments.

He scrutinized the room once more, frowning. The bed was enormous, nearly king-sized, and featured red silk sheets. There was nothing else to do in the room. No computer stations, no televisions, no gaming systems, no books, not even Wi-Fi. The room was designed as a place for copulation…which he and Clara would not be engaging in. Ever.

He'd managed to find the courage to face her once more after she'd discovered his hologram program. Luckily, she hadn't questioned him about it and they'd settled into an awkward sort of peace. She continued to date P.E. and while he loathed the man, he tolerated it. If only because it placed a barrier between himself and Clara.

Although, seeing the two of them canoodling on the couch had caused him to seethe. A primal part of himself had claimed Clara long ago and watching another man touch her, kiss her drove him insane. It made him want to do stupid things like punch P.E. in the face. He had managed to reign that impulse in, but he couldn't resist one upping soldier boy in front of her or stealing Clara out from under his nose, with only the promise of a trip. It was childish but it had felt amazing at the time. Clara preferred_ him_ to her handsome young boy toy.

_Take that, P.E._

Though, he'd just been hoisted by his own petard. He never should have brought Clara here. He should have sorted this on his own….only he couldn't. He would have looked incredibly suspicious all by himself. And they had to pose as a couple. He could think of no good reason for a man to bring his daughter here. Indeed, it would only cause more of a stir. But this trip was too soon after _The Incident_ in the control room.

Well, nothing to do now but brazen his way through it.

Finally, he tugged the red monstrosity up his legs. He glanced at himself in the mirror. The suit outlined his genitals in a horrific fashion. He looked far too old for such salacious clothing. He was pale and thin, his chest and arms dotted with silver hair. He grabbed a towel from the rack and knotted it around his waist. When he turned to see Clara emerge from the bathroom, he was glad he had covered up.

If his swimsuit was tiny, hers was miniscule…

Two petite hearts scarcely covered her breasts. A third heart stretched strategically between her thighs and when his eyes flicked to the mirror behind her, he noted she only had a string between the twin globes of her shapely derriere.

His body automatically responded to the site of her, his erection roaring to life, and he folded his hands in front of himself. He hoped she couldn't see the bulge beneath the towel.

She crossed her arms over her chest, which only pushed her breasts up, making them look even more mouthwatering. "Well, let's see yours then!" she said cheerfully, gesturing to his towel. He could tell she was nervous as well, but Clara always hid her discomfort behind exuberance.

"Perhaps later," he said tightly.

Oh, yes, this plan was cock up of _epic _proportions.

"I think we should get to the hot springs as fast as possible." Hopefully, the water would…_ease _his body's response.

With that, he turned on his heel and made for the door, leaving Clara to follow after him. The gentlemanly thing to do would be to hold the door open for her, but staring at her backside for ten minutes while she preceded him would only exacerbate his, er, problem.

He idly wondered if a man could die from sexual frustration. Gods help him if he had to stay in the room with her tonight.


	3. Chapter 3

**Spark 3/3**

_That's definitely a banana hammock. _

Clara couldn't stop staring at the Doctor. Well, one specific part of him. Clara's cousin had used the term, banana hammock, when they were teenagers to describe a small swimsuit a man sported at the public pool. It was an apt description. The red material scarcely covered the Doctor's, er, endowment. Speaking of which, he evidently had plenty to be cocky about.

She smirked at her own cleverness.

They'd spent about an hour in the hot springs. The water flowed into hundreds of rock pools, which must have been carved by wind and rain over the centuries. The Doctor had insisted they place themselves in adjacent pools, even though most couples shared one. He'd been acting strange the first half an hour or so, studiously ignoring her and shutting his eyes.

But, always restless, eventually the Doctor had gotten out of his pool to prowl around the springs, looking for clues. Although he'd insisted she stay in hers for some odd reason. While she was annoyed at being put on the bench, so to speak, it gave her a wonderful opportunity to observe him while he was distracted.

She'd been thinking about him a lot recently….

He looked uncomfortable without his normal clothing; he kept wrapping his arms around his abdomen. The Doctor had a surprisingly lithe body for the age he appeared to be. Thin and pale with silver hair on his chest and legs, he still was undeniably handsome. She had to admit, she found him very attractive. Funny, when he'd first changed, she'd been put off initially by his appearance, but he had undeniable sex appeal. Even more so than before.

Her gaze centered on the swimsuit once more. Unbidden, his little comment came to mind. He'd said he could last longer than twenty-five minutes. How long though?

"Kindly stop staring at my crotch, Clara," the Doctor said gruffly.

Wide-eyed, she glanced up to see him giving her a set of really annoyed eyebrows. She swallowed and then forced a smile. "I wasn't—"

"You were," he insisted.

"Was not."

He scowled.

Time for a change of topic! "Um, so, didn't find anything, huh?"

"Other than libidinous pudding heads? I'm afraid not," the Doctor huffed as he slid back into his pool. "No shortage of those here." It came up to the middle of his chest and he waded over to her.

She glanced around them, noting couples kissing and touching one another as they soaked. She had to admit it was awkward. None of them were actually having sex, but the atmosphere was very intimate. She inadvertently felt like a voyeur. Clara thought they almost must be calling attention to themselves, since they weren't all over each other.

"Um, Doctor, do you think we should…I don't know makeout or something?"

Blinking, he stared at her wide-eyed.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said hurriedly. "Making out is when you kiss and—"

"I'm old, Clara, not stupid. I know what it is, why do you think we should...do that?"

"To blend in!" she gestured to the love fest around them.

"Oh." For a moment, she thought she caught a hint of disappointment in his voice, but he cleared this throat. "I don't think it would be prudent to carry this charade that far."

Clara told herself she wasn't disappointed about that. "Fine." She sighed. "You said the couples disappeared after being in the water?"

He nodded. "Perhaps they came here at a less crowded time?"

"Maybe we should come back tonight?" Clara offered.

The Doctor glowered, looking thoroughly displeased. "I suppose we'll have to. But that will mean staying the night on the planet."

Clara laughed at his expression. "Oh, come on, it's not _that_ bad, is it? We've stayed in worse places than a resort."

"I've been thinking," the Doctor said quickly. "Perhaps you should stay in the TARDIS tonight, just to be safe, I mean. And I'll sleep in the room."

"I'm here to help, not be the damsel in distress. And what if you need me in the middle of the night?" she said softly, intimately. She knew he'd been uncomfortable about the sleeping arrangements and she couldn't resist having a bit of fun with him.

The Doctor's eyes widened and he appeared flustered. "Why…why would I need you?"

"To find the missing people?" she offered innocently.

He gulped. "Oh, right. Yes. Missing otters. Pudding heads in peril," he said, with a nod. "Well, I suppose you are right. That would be _inconvenient_ if something occurred tonight. I suppose we'll both have to stay in the room then, perhaps we'll sleep in shifts."

"The bed is plenty big enough, Doctor. Don't worry. I won't violate your no touching rule."

"It isn't_ you_ I'm worried about," she thought she heard him mumble.

"What was that?" she asked.

"Nothing," he muttered. Then abruptly he stared at the water she stood in. "Clara, I believe it's bubbling."

She squinted at the water surrounding her. Lots of little bubbles fizzed around her and she could feel them grazing her legs as they came to the surface. Then, the water started to churn, even more bubbles slid up her thighs, over her abdomen, and then between her legs. The water foamed at the surface.

As another wave hit her, she nearly doubled over. "Oh my God!" Clara cried, not that she was afraid, the sensation was unexpectedly pleasurable. _Very pleasurable._

"Are you okay?" he asked quickly, alarmed.

"Uh, I'm fine," she said quickly.

"Then why did you make that noise?"

"Um. It was just surprising," she lied.

The Doctor grabbed the sonic, which he'd stashed beneath a towel and discreetly scanned her water and then his own. "Hmm, your pool's PH is more alkaline than mine." He nodded. "Perhaps that is how the water helps with fertility? The, uh, vagina can be quite acidic which can make it difficult for conception. The water might be able to reduce the acid."

She clutched the edge of the pool. "Doctor!"

His eyes widened and he watched her carefully. "Clara, perhaps you should get out of the water!" He offered her a hand.

She grabbed his hand but somehow, her legs wouldn't work and she didn't quite possess the will to go anywhere. The water felt so good, _so intense_. She moaned. "Um, I don't think I can." A hot blush bloomed on her cheeks.

"Clara! Are you certain you're okay?" His eyes searched her face.

"Yes," she said and she was surprised how throaty her voice sounded. She met his gaze and suddenly the atmosphere changed, became charged.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. They just stared at one another. Like that time on the mummy train, when she'd been nearly convinced he was about to kiss her.

His eyes never left hers. "Does it feel," he paused, licking his lips. "Does it feel good?"

"Oh, God, yes," she moaned, undulating in the water. The bubbles seemed to caress her in all the right places. She let out a strangled cry. "I think I might...Doctor," she whispered, "I think I might…"

"Climax?" he offered.

She nodded furiously, thoroughly embarrassed, but so aroused she couldn't help it.

The Doctor glanced around them, but none of the other couples paid them any mind, since all of the pools had filled with the foamy alkaline water. "Perhaps with all of the…stimulation, a release wouldn't be such a bad thing. You needn't worry. No one is watching you, Clara."

"Except for you," she said softly.

"Except for me," he echoed. His eyes were locked on hers.

She licked her lips and he followed the movement. "Would you like me to look away?" he finally said.

"No," she whispered.

"Oh," he said, but it came out more of a groan.

She moved to the edge of the pool, needing more contact with him. "Doctor, I need…"

"What do you need?" he asked, his voice deep and low. It gave her the shivers, made her body ache even more.

"The Doctor was only a few inches from her, though a rock wall separated their lower bodies. "I need this!" She pulled him into a hug, burying her face in his neck. She needed to be close to him, to feel him against her. Surprisingly, he didn't protest. Instead, he seized her, pulling her to the very edge. "I need you," she moaned.

"I've got you, Clara," he whispered, as he tangled his fingers in her hair, soothing her.

Writhing, she opened her legs wider and let the bubbles work their magic. She wailed as they caressed her, as _he_ caressed her as well. "Oh, Doctor," she crooned in his ear, rocking in the water.

The Doctor shuddered. "Say that again."

"Doctor!" she cried as she teetered on the edge.

He tiled her back until he could see her once more, look down into her face. "Yes, come on, Clara. You're so close. Take it. Take your pleasure. I want to see you. I _need_ to see you."

"Oh, yes, Doctor!" She shuddered as she came.

**12**

"I loathe this blasted planet."

An hour later, the Doctor lay on the bed in the hotel room, with a hand pressed over his forehead, wondering if this agony would ever end. Mercifully, he was fully dressed again, though it did little to disguise his tumescence. Apparently, he now had a permanent case of priapism.

Watching Clara climax earlier had taken its toll on his body and his nerves. He kept hearing her call his name as she came, playing it again and again in his head. And if he were honest with himself, he'd admit he wanted to _make_ her say his name again and again, as _he_ brought her to orgasm. With his mouth, with his fingers, and his….

_Think of something else!_

Clara wasn't helping matters. She was in the shower now. He could hear the water running in the bathroom. He kept torturing himself with the thought of Clara naked and wet just a few dozen feet from him…After she had orgasmed, they'd hastily stopped by the TARDIS and then gone back to the room. It had been awkward afterwards. She kept trying to talk with him about what happened and he kept on distracting her, not wanting to discuss the issue further. It would only lead to even more awkward territory.

This was going to be a long night.

He must have been mad to come to this planet with Clara in tow. He wondered if they had inadvertently ruined their friendship. But he had been wondering if perhaps his motives in coming here hadn't been altruistic to begin with, maybe he'd been subconsciously hoping something would happen between them?

And now that it had…what did that mean for their friendship?

Minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom in a short silken robe provided by the hotel. It scarcely grazed the tops of her thighs. Oh, for the love of sanity, she was naked beneath the robe.

As if he needed any more stimulation.

"I thought you were going to change," he said hoarsely. They had planned on going to dinner after she cleaned up, but he wasn't the slightest bit hungry. For food, anyway.

"I am, but I forgot my clothes." She slung a duffel bag over her shoulder and disappeared into the steamy bathroom once more. They'd both grabbed some clothing from the TARDIS.

After a few minutes she final appeared once more, fully dressed and ready for dinner. "You ready?"

He reluctantly got off the bed and buttoned his coat, hoping the fabric would disguise his, er, problem. "I suppose."

"Well, I'm hoping the food is good," she said with a forced sort of cheeriness. That was his Clara, powering through the tension by sheer will alone.

"Frankly, I'm suspecting oysters and chocolate. Or maybe they'll just drop some Spanish fly on our plates and be done with it."

Clara bit her lip. "Spanish fly?"

"Never mind."

The resort served food buffet style and they both filled plates before taking a seat near the windows. Thankfully, the offerings didn't run to aphrodisiacs. That was at least one normal thing about this wretched place. The dining room was large and the atmosphere with decidedly romantic. The lights had been lowered and tables were decorated with white candles and vases of fragrant roses.

Both he and Clara picked at their food. She seemed to be deep in thought, which didn't bode well. He could almost feel the barrage of questions headed his way. They hadn't even addressed the hologram issue or The Incident where she'd touched his hip. Nor had they talked about the hot springs. He supposed it was a foolish hope that she'd just simply let it lie.

"So, when do you want to go back to the water?" she asked.

"I was thinking after we finish dinner, I'll go by myself and have a look see." He cleared his throat. He scanned the room with the sonic. "Judging by the hormone levels in this place, none of these people will be bathing in the hot springs tonight."

"You mean they—"

"Yes," he said succinctly.

She blushed. "I'll go with you."

"No!"

Clara flinched. "Why? I thought you wanted my help."

"I do, but I think I'll do this one alone." Maybe some time alone, would help him get his unruly body under control. Besides, the sight of Clara in that swimsuit would only be distracting. "In fact, I think I'll start now." He snatched up his plate and walked away from the table without a backwards glance.

"Doctor!" Clara called, but he ignored her, placing his plate in the bin, and then dashing from the room as fast as his legs would carry him.

Thankfully, she didn't follow him.

**12**

The Doctor had refused to wear his ridiculous swimming costume to the hot springs. He had no intention of getting in the water anyway. Thankfully, no one seemed to be monitoring the situation at the moment. He'd hate to have to sonic one of them. Well, he'd pretend to hate it anyway. It served them right. It was deserted except for one couple canoodling in a nearby pool.

_Excellent_. Perhaps someone or something would try to snatch them up? He hunkered down behind some rocks and watched. Thank heavens, they didn't seem to notice him. He wasn't sure how he would explain standing there in the dark watching them by himself. He didn't want to come off as some sort of pervert.

Ten minutes in, he had to avert his eyes. He couldn't believe the humans were about to engage in coitus in the pool. At the very least copulation should be a private activity. Another, terrible thought struck him…Had any of the humans had copulated in the water he'd stood in earlier in the day? Perhaps he should have a steaming hot shower when he returned to the room.

Other than the tryst he was forced to watch, nothing was happening. Perhaps these disappearances had a more mundane cause? All in all, tonight was perhaps a bust. Just then, he noticed there were no sounds coming from the oversexed humans. No lip-smacking, no whispers. Nothing.

He tentatively peered around a bolder and caught sight of an enormous red and purple creature lumbering into a nearby cave. In its arms, it held the unconscious humans. It must have snatched them up while he'd been preoccupied. Of course, it was a Desirious! He recognized the alien instantly, although this was one was quite large. They fed on lustful energy and this sort of planet must beckon to them.

Normally, it wasn't an issue. They'd nip a bit of energy from other species without them being any the wiser, but this one seemed to be a little on the greedy side. It had probably been scooping up the humans to feed its voracious appetite.

The Doctor pulled the sonic out of his pocket and ran after it.

In the mouth of the cave, he found several unconscious humans, laying about the floor like so many discarded batteries. A quick scan confirmed their life signs. All of them were unharmed, albeit exhausted from being fed on. He had no doubt they were the missing couples.

Meanwhile, the creature crouched in the corner, rubbing its large belly, looking a bit like a roly poly feline after finishing a saucer of cream. The couple it had just taken were lying next to it and its fluffy pink antenna worked two and fro siphoning off some of their sexual vitality. They were a harmless breed by and large. He aimed at the sonic at a nerve cluster in its thorax and let loose a series of pulses that lolled it to sleep. Once he retrieved the TARDIS, he'd materialize it around the creature and take it back to its home planet, right after he returned the humans to their resort.

Not a bad night, all in all. Everyone lived. He didn't have to harm the alien in question. And best of all, he could get out of this place without having to share a bed with Clara tonight. He didn't know if he could keep up the charade of being impervious to her while she slept next to him. He had a hard enough time when they shared a ship that was bigger on the inside. There were no libraries to get lost in at the resort.

When he walked into the hotel room, he found the lights off and Clara curled on one side of the enormous bed. She wore a pale blue nightgown that only came down to her mid-thigh. She'd rucked up the covers when she slept, leaving both legs exposed. He crept close to the bed and rubbed her shoulder…just her shoulder. "Clara? I got it all sorted. Wake up, it's time to go back to the TARDIS."

She mumbled in her sleep and rolled over, scooching away from him subconsciously.

"Clara?" he tried again. "Wake up."

She ignored him, peacefully slumbering away.

_Blast._ She must be exhausted. Well, she could sleep once they got on board. They needed to get out of this place. Right now. Before one of them did something to alter their relationship forever.

He sat down beside her on the bed, was about to touch her shoulder again, when she flipped over and flung herself on top of him, straddling his hips.

The Doctor cried out in shock.

She grinned. "Now, I've got you exactly where I want you."

**12**

"Clara, what has gotten into you?! Let me up! This instant!" the Doctor said, grimacing.

"Let you up?" Clara wasn't the slightest bit intimidated. "Hmm. Let me think about it…no!"

"Did they dose you with pheromones or something?"

"No! You and I are going to have a discussion. The one you've been avoiding all day."

"Clara," he said quickly. "Let me up. Now."

"No."

His brow furrowed, as though it hadn't even occurred to him that she wouldn't immediately comply. "If you don't, I'll have to move you."

"I would love to see you try," she whispered, leaning down to look him in the eye. He was sprawled on his back, arms and legs spread. He swallowed thickly and she could tell he was growing more and more uncomfortable.

"I'm bigger than you! I can make you move," he threatened.

"But you won't," she countered.

"Oh? Why not?"

"Because then you'd have to touch me and we both know that the more you touch me, the less you'll want me to move," she said in a little singsong voice, with just a hint of gloating.

He gulped and she knew she'd scored a direct hit. "Clara, we shouldn't be doing this."

"We aren't doing anything," she said quickly. "But we're about to have a talk, a hearts to heart if you like," she said, tapping his chest and then her own. "I think you've been holding out on me."

The Doctor cleared his throat. "Clara, this talk won't lead anywhere that's productive. Let me up and we'll go back to the TARDIS. I've sorted this whole thing out. We can take off and we'll go anywhere you want. Even Sherwood Forest, if you like. You can spend the day laughing with Robin Hood if you like."

Clara didn't respond to the offer. "I'm glad to hear you've got it all taken care of. That means you have time to talk," she said, arching a brow at him. "Why didn't you tell me you still had feelings for me?"

He didn't answer her. "I'm not saying another word until you let me up."

The Doctor mulishly shut his mouth, lips forming a tight, white seam. His eyes flared and looked really angry. Fortunately, she had a secret weapon at her disposal. Clara slowly glided her hips against his, causing just the tiniest bit of friction. Immediately, she could feel him harden beneath her. "Know what I'm wearing beneath this nightgown?" she taunted.

"No! Don't do that!" he hissed.

"Don't do what?" she said, eyes going wide with feigned innocence.

"You know very well what you're doing," he bit out.

"I'm not wearing a thing," she whispered.

He groaned, low in his throat, a hungry animal sound. "Stop it," he croaked.

"Then tell me what I want to know. Why didn't you tell me you still want me?"

"I don't want to talk about this!" he grated out.

"Too bad. I do!"

"You want to know why?" he hissed.

"Yes!"

Because_ you_ didn't want _me_ anymore!" he shouted, the words sounded like they'd been ripped from his throat. "I changed and you suddenly decided you no longer found me attractive. I got old, Clara, and you couldn't handle it."

She shook her head. "No, that's not how it was. I was just surprised!"

"You made the comments about the grey hair," he reminded her. "And I saw the way you looked at me after I changed. I was no longer your dashing young time traveler. You weren't…you aren't attracted to me," he muttered, turning his face away from her.

Clara felt her stomach twist into knots. She thought back to that day he'd changed. It had been an emotional rollercoaster. He'd kept sending her away, she'd spent hours with her bickering relatives, and then for all intents and purposes, her Doctor died. Only to be replaced by an older, fiercer version who didn't know how to fly a TARDIS. They'd nearly gotten eaten by a dinosaur and he'd no longer remembered her name. He remembered the freaking Cybermen head but not her. It had been all too much to bear. She'd lashed out at him before she could get a hold of herself.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, leaning down to kiss his cheek. "I shouldn't have sad that. I've come to love your grey hair."

The Doctor didn't move or respond in anyway.

"I wish I could take it all back. That was a really, horrible day and I shouldn't have taken it out on you." She stroked his hair. It had grown out slightly, so it had a fluffy texture. "I've seen all your faces. I know that you change, but I wasn't prepared for it happening right in front of me, especially not to the man I'd come to love."

"Love?" he asked, finally meeting her eyes. "You mean as a friend."

"No, Doctor. I love you. I thought you knew that."

He turned away once more and she thought she saw something glistening in his eyes. Tears? "You never said so," he said hoarsely.

"I didn't think I had to. I thought you knew when I stepped into your timeline. I'm a good person. I would help a friend in need anytime, but willingly tearing myself into shreds? I would _only _do that for a man I loved. In fact, I did do it for the man I love," she said, tears beginning to slip from her eyes as well.

His voice was hoarse as he spoke. "_Loved._ Clara, I know you don't feel that way anymore. Who could blame you? I appear to have aged thirty years. You're a young woman and you should be with someone your own age. Someone like P.E."

She ignored the last part of what he'd said. "You know I don't feel that way, huh? Because I didn't get that memo." To prove her point, she moved against him again and he growled. "As a matter of fact, I had an orgasm earlier today calling your name."

He shuddered and then licked his lips. "That was just the..uh…physical stimulation."

She shook her head. "No, Doctor, it wasn't. I've been thinking about you ever since I saw that hologram. I've had trouble thinking about anything else"

He turned red at the mention of the computer program. Then, he changed the subject. "And what about P.E.?"

She sighed. "Danny is a good guy, but you know what he isn't?"

The Doctor frowned. "No."

"He isn't you," she said simply.

He stared at her. "What do you mean?"

"You and I have been different lately. More distant. But nowI know you were pushing me away because you thought I didn't love you anymore. I think I've been with Danny as a way to cope. I hate to admit this, but it might be a rebound relationship."

"I told you, you made a boyfriend error," the Doctor said, just a hint of smugness behind it. He shifted on the bed beneath her, his hips arching and she could feel the hard length of him pressing in just the right spot.

"Oh!" she said, shivering.

"See? Two can play at this game."

"Doctor, I need you." Her voice sounded lower, throaty, even to her own ears. "I want you."

His hand shook a little as he reached for her. "Are you sure, Clara?" he asked. "Once we do this, I don't know if I could go back to being your sexless traveling companion."

"Oh, I'm sure." She began undoing the buttons on his trousers.

His hand covered hers. "And what of the illustrious Mr. Pink?"

"I think it's time I ended that relationship." She bit her lower lip. "The fact of the matter is, I think about you when I'm with him, but I never think about him when I'm with you. Because when I'm with you? I feel like…like… I'm home," she admitted.

The Doctor reached up and cupped her face in his hand and she leaned down to get closer. He kissed her then, leisurely, just tasting her mouth. "You've no idea how much I've missed doing that," he admitted.

She chuckled. "Doctor, we've never kissed."

"No, _we_ haven't, but you're Victorian echo and I did," he said, waggling his eyebrows.

"Doctor!" she smacked his chest. "You never told me that."

He laughed. "Don't worry, kissing the real Clara is much better. But enough talk. Unzip my trousers. I think we should act out some of the scenarios I devised."

"I only saw a little of the one. I think you should tell me about the rest."

"Oh, that's right. You only saw the flirty one," he teased. "Some of them were much more…scandalous."

"Care to give me a preview?"

"Well, in one you wore a pair of thigh boots and had a riding crop. In another, you were in full on teacher mode, with your hair up in a bun and glasses low on your nose."

Clara's eyes widened in shock, albeit a pleasant one. "And let me guess in both cases, you'd been really bad and needed…um, correcting?"

"Of course," he said teasingly. "But don't worry, Clara, we'll work up to that."

"For now, I'm more interested in this." She unzipped his trousers and then slid him out of his pants. The hard length of him sprung free, into her eager little hands. The tip was already wet. "No wonder you filled that swimsuit."

"Clara!" he gasped.

"What?" she said, stroking him, smirking.

"I'm not going to last much longer if you keep touching me like that."

"That's the plan. I can't wait much longer." With that, she straddled him and took him deep inside her. They both moaned at the contact. She was achingly full, stretched taught and the friction was absolutely delicious. She needed him, wanted him so badly. "Oh, yes, that feels better."

"Clara," he moaned. "I need…I need…please!" He grasped her hips, seeking more stimulation as he bucked up against her.

With a groan, she began to move on him, sliding up and down. "I know what exactly what you need. Because I need it too." They moved together until finally, she tipped over the edge, crying his name as she came.

The Doctor finished right after, trembling beneath her.

She collapsed against his chest and he cradled her, dragging the covers over both of them. She snuggled in against him. "I thought you didn't like touching."

"It depends on who is doing the touching," he said. "You have an all access pass."

"Do I?" she said, grinning.

"Anytime you like. You're the boss."

Clara sighed, resting her head on his chest, loving the drumbeat sound of his hearts. "And here I thought what he had fizzled out and turned to ash when you changed."

"I think some sparks can't be denied, Clara. Some are meant to flame to life and burn forever."

Clasped in each other's arms, they drifted off to sleep together, the fire banked for the moment …but still burning.


End file.
